JAG: Faithful to the End and True Devotion
by TnJAGAz
Summary: What might have happened in the Chaco Boreal...warning, character death. These were written over the summer following the airing of "A Tangled Webb - Part 1"


Faithful to the End

Authors: TxJAG_b and JoshuaTree

Email:

Rating: G

Classification: A different kind of story for me

Spoilers: Pas de Deux, A Tangled Webb – End of Season 8

Summary: 2003 JAGFEST Fanfic finalist – 3rd Place Winner

A/N 1: I am a shipper, honest; but this is one of those scenes that just kept dancing around in my head one Sunday afternoon. It's a bookend piece to "True Devotion" which is just below this one.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Donald P. Bellisario, Belisaurius Productions, Paramount Pictures and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment – this story is for non-profit entertainment of JAG fans only. No copyright infringement is  
>intended or implied.<br>**  
><strong>

1540 Zulu

Somewhere near Chaco Boreal, Paraguay

Harmon Rabb, Jr. found the cover that he needed in the crumpled remains of the smoking aircraft. Gently he lowered the oil stained blanket over the form.

The cawing of the tropical birds and wind blowing through the rainforest trees didn't faze him. He absently swiped at the drying blood on the side of his face. His arms felt like lead. All he could do was stare blankly at the silent form. He closed his eyes and a single tear trickled down his face. Then a voice startled him out of his mourning.

_C'mon Sailor, get a move on! Sadik's men will be looking for us!_

Harm looked around and saw no one. But, he realized the voice was right. He picked up the bundle in a fireman's carry and started moving away from the destroyed aircraft. Each footstep felt like it was being made underwater. Tears sprang to his eyes again as he felt the form bounce on his shoulders

_Hey Flyboy…._

There it was again. Mac's voice-

He stopped.

_Snap out of it. We've got get some distance between this plane wreck and us. I told you I'd never leave you…._

"But you did Mac," he whispered, his voice trembling, "I can't go on…not without you…"

Mac's voice was strong and insistent.

_Yes you can Stickboy, don't give up now. Just get us over that hill and everything will be fine. I promise._

Harm wiped his eyes and started up the trail toward the hilltop. He wanted badly to believe that voice. Jungle vines tried to tear at his arms and legs, threatening to trip him. But he didn't see them. He only saw the figure standing at the top of the hill with her hands on her hips, a playful smile on her face.

_C'mon Harm!_

He shook his head. If Mac was up there, whom was he carrying?

_Harm! Come on! Move your six!_

Extinguishing the thought, Harm negotiated the last twenty feet to the summit of the hill He could see Mac in her pregnancy outfit, smiling at him. It was that smile that lit up his whole world.

_You made it Flyboy! I knew you could do it…._

Gunny looked at Harm coming up the overgrown hillside carrying the bloodstained form.

Victor couldn't tell if Harm had been hurt, but the look in his eyes—that haunted, driven look—something bad had happened. Then he saw it. Gunny winced at the sight of the bloody female arm that dangled limply out from under the blanket. "Sir…Harm…."

"She got me back here Gunny," said Harm in a low voice, almost reverent, "We made it back…."

Harm turned to see Mac smiling at him.

Gunny walked over to the former Commander. "Sir how long have you been walking?" He cautiously reached out toward the blanketed form.

"Six hours and twenty-four minutes." he said without pausing.

Stunned by an admission that only Mac could have spoken, Victor Galindez felt a lump forming in his throat. "Let's get you out of here Sir," said Gunny hoarsely, taking his hand.

"Mac did it Gunny, she wouldn't let me stop to rest…she wouldn't let me give up."

Victor looked at the former Commander trying to understand what must be going through his tortured mind. He looked again at the blanketed form. "Here Sir, I'll take that-let me carry her for you…."

"Okay…." Harm said distractedly. He looked beyond tired. The weight that he was carrying seemed to be overwhelming him.

Without argument, Harm let Gunny take the weight off his shoulders. As Gunny felt the body hit his, he saw Mac standing in the distance.

_Take him home Gunny…._

Victor could not believe what he was seeing.

_I can't take him there, but you can. Semper Fi Gunny._

"Semper Fi Ma'am," he replied quietly, "I'll get him home."

-FINI

A/N: - And several people asked for a followup with the roles reversed. So here it is. I call it a bookend piece to the first story.

True Devotion

Author: TxJAG_b

Email:

Rating: G/PG

Classification: A different kind of story for me

Spoilers: Secrets, Baby, It's Cold Outside, Lifeline, A Tangled Webb

Summary: Another A/U, but something I had to get off my chest. A companion piece or 'bookend' to 'Faithful to the End'. Written shortly after the contest.

Disclaimer: The characters in this story are the property of Donald Bellisario, Belisaurius Productions, Paramount Pictures and Columbia Broadcasting Service Entertainment – this story is for non-profit entertainment of JAG fans only. No copyright infringement is  
>intended or implied.<p>

2150 Zulu

24 December 2030

JAG Headquarters

Falls Church, Virginia

"She's been very quiet today." said the Lieutenant to Petty Office Jorgansen, the CO's personal yeoman. The Lieutenant had transferred to JAG Headquarters just last week. She stood in front of his desk awaiting an answer.

The Petty Officer sighed. "She always gets this way around Christmas Eve." He replied evenly as both cut their eyes toward the door marked 'Private'

As the door started to open, the Lieutenant quickly walked back to her desk.

The Marine Major General walked out and looked over at her yeoman. Her winter uniform carried a vast array of various awards, commendations and ribbons. Including ribbons for combat service in Southwest Asia, Southern Russia, Korea. She smiled slightly at him.

"I'm headed home Jorgansen," she said simply, "Have a good Christmas." The General started out through the bullpen.

"Ma'am?" She stopped and slowly turned back to the Petty Officer.

"Yes Jorgansen?"

"Some of us are having a small party later this evening. You're welcome to come if you like-"

She smiled at the gesture. "Thank you Jorgansen, I appreciate the offer. I'll give it some serious thought." The smile was prettiest she had given in days. "Good night, Petty Officer."

He knew what this response meant, because it was the exact one she had given last year. And the year before that, and the year before that. Oh well, he had to give it a try. "Good night, Ma'am."

The General walked out the front door of the building and over to her sedan. The doors automatically unlocked, as she got close. She took off her cover and put her briefcase in when the door opened.

As she got in and looked at the instrument panel, the door closed and locked. "Arlington National Cemetery," she intoned. The sedan started and moved toward the front gate. The Sergeant on duty smiled as she pulled up.

Calling it an early night, General?

"Going to get some last minute Christmas shopping done, Sergeant." She smiled. It was lie, but an acceptable one for this time of year.

He also knew it was a lie. The Sergeant looked at his computer notepad and confirmed her scan. It wasn't his place to question her. Besides, he had been here long enough to know what she really going to do, and he couldn't say that he really blamed her. It was her friend and she had a right to do it this way if she wanted to. It was really nobody's business and he certainly wasn't going to stop her.

"Have a good one, General." He smiled and saluted her. "Merry Christmas."

"Merry Christmas to you too." She pulled through the gate and headed out into traffic.

2250 Zulu

Arlington National Cemetery

Arlington, Virginia

The Marine General stood at the tombstone.

"Well, I'm here. Just like I promised."

She looked down at the grave. Just below the grave marker was an urn for flowers. She had just placed roses in it. The General had had them in the car since she bought them at lunchtime. It was a regular routine. She never let her yeoman or anyone else buy the roses. This was something she had to do herself.

The late afternoon sky was overcast and gray. The clouds seemed to be lowering, and there would probably be a cold rain or wet heavy snow for Christmas. It had taken her a full ten minutes to reach the site. When she arrived, she turned and looked down the hill at the hundreds of markers that wound their way down to the road below. She sighed and took off her cover, standing with her back to the grave.

Despite her years, her short brunette hair still only had traces of iron gray in it. Her face, though older, did not look haggard or aged. There was a hint of sadness though.

She turned and looked back at the grave.

_When you're done Semper fieing…_

_I'm always nice to you._

_You know you save a person's life that makes you responsible for them._

_Saved your little green marine butt that day._

_I see a desirable woman._

_What I want Mac is to never lose you_

Her mind replayed the crash as it had so many times before. The shuddering and jarring followed by deafening silence. It was only when she felt herself being tugged that she came to. There he was, dragging her out. He had to make sure she was okay and away from that wreck. That's when she saw his injuries. He knew he was dying, but true to form, he was trying to get her out of danger.

Major General Sarah "Mac" MacKenzie hugged herself against the cold and let a single tear trail down her face.

"Oh God Flyboy…how I miss you…."

She put her hand on the cold tombstone. Another tear escaped her eyes.

Her voice was thick with emotion. "Thank you Harm. I'll never forget what you did for me that day…."

She wiped her face with the back of her hand and sniffed to pull back the remaining tears. She put her cover back on and smiled sadly.

"I'm headed over to the Wall in a few minutes," she said quietly, the words being a source of comfort. "I haven't forgotten Harm." She saluted the tombstone. The sad smile returned.

As she stood there, Mac thought about her yeoman's invitation. Maybe it time. Her Flyboy would have wanted her to do this. He would have insisted upon it if he could have, a long time ago. But she was stubborn; determined to honor and remember her friend as she had promised in that steamy tropical jungle oh so many years ago. Could she do this? Was it dishonoring him or would he understand? As if in answer to her unspoken question, a soft breeze rustled through her hair and caressed her face. She smiled.

"You know Harm, I think I'll take up Jorgansen this year on his invitation, but you know where I have to go first."

As she turned and began walking down toward her sedan, a soft cold drizzle began to fall.

-FINI


End file.
